Bones, an Abridged Story
by Anubis4545
Summary: Enjoy!


Bones, the Abridged Story.

Typed by Anubis4545

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><p>Angela walked into the large room, and saw Brennan's sleeping carcass on the body rack for the cremation furnace. As Angela walked forward to Brennan, Brennan stirred in her sleep, and turned towards Angela. She was still asleep though.<p>

"Phew" Angela thought.

Angela quietly tip-toed up to the side of the body rack, that Brennan had apparently decided to nap on. She felt the warmth of the intense flames of the furnace.

Angela was walking like that of a ballerina. Suddenly she stepped straight down on her big toe. The full weight of her pressed down on her toe, and made it collapse into a crumpled raisin.

"Oh MAMBO PAPA!" Angela screeched.

She suddenly covered her mouth, and looked at the still snoozin' Brennan. Brennan sighed, and smiled happily in her sleep.

Brennan then began muttering.

"Oh Hodgins... Please... Your so good at this..." Brennan then stuck her tongue out, and as if something sudden happened in her dream, chomped down, and cut right through her tongue.

Brennan was still smiling, and sleeping as a grunt of pain emitted from her, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

Angela did not see her lose her tongue. All she could think about was that Brennan was having a dream about her Hodgins.

She bent down next to Brennan's ear, and suddenly squealed loudly.

"SWEETIE! You sleep with my Hodgins dearie? Sweet, dear, honey then you die!"  
>She then pushed on the rack, and slid the still sleeping Brennan, now with an ear trickling blood into the volcano-like flames of the cremation furnace.<p>

The force of the sudden explosion of flames from the furnace being fed, made Angela stumble backwards.

There was a sewing machine behind her, and her arm fell against it. The machine flew into sudden life, and began sewing the upper half of Angela's arm to her lower waist.

"MR. SNUFFLEUPAGUS, HAAAALP!" Angela squealed.

She tore herself off the machine, and looked at her arm that was now sewn to her waist. Only her lower arm, and hand were moveable. She was in immense pain.

Suddenly Hodgins came running into the room.

"Angela? What happened to yo-..." He was cut off, as an on-fire-sleep-walking Brennan came flying up from behind, and hugged him.

"WAAAAAAAAAH!" Hodgins yelled, as he burst into flames. His only thought was that he shouldn't of bathed in gasoline before coming down.

Angela watched in horror, as the two flaming corpses ran about waving their arms in the air, and hugging people as they went. Apparently only moments before this, a parade procession was passing through.

When everyone was now up in flames. All the flaming corpses turned to Angela.

Angela screamed and waved her now short arm at them in defense.

She looked around for a possible escape route, and saw a dark, dirty alley-way.

She galloped side-ways towards the alley-way. When she got far enough in she stopped, and caught her breath. Suddenly from leaning forward, her body could not support her because of her also lacking a big toe.

She tried to gain her balance but failed, and stumbled backwards into a shelf of crude wooden clubs that somebody thoughtfully placed there.

All the clubs began falling off, and clubbing her.

One hit her in the back on the head. She bent forward in pain. As she tried to straighten up, a few more clubbed her in the spine. Breaking it.

She was then thrown to the floor as dozens of clubs fell down and clubbed her to death.

Angela squealed like a swine hungry for more slop. The raining of clubs stopped suddenly. She lay there, in pain, and coughing.

There was a precarious pile of the clubs around her. She slowly hobbled up, then because of her sewn-to-waist arm, flew backwards doing a 360-kick-flip, and dislodged a club. The pile precariously swayed dangerously.

Angela knew she had to exercise extreme caution to avoid an avalanche of crude wooden clubs. Her plan seemed perfect till she heard a tired voice call out to her.

"Angelaaa! Let me help you, I'm comingg!" Groaned Mr. Snuffleupagus, as he lumbered clumsily towards her through a gap in the clubs.

"NO! You dumb b-...!" She was cut-off as the clumsy fool bumped into the side of the fragile pile.

"Oooohpooograph! Angelaa, no!" Mr. Snuffleupagus squawked, his eye's watering.

The clubs suddenly began crumbling around her, causing an avalanche. Mr. Snuffleupagus quickly dissipated to safety, abandoning her.

The avalanche sub-sided, and Angela's hand was the only part of her sticking out of the pile, it twitched, then went still. A pool of blood, and tears, pooled out from under the pile.

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><p>Brennan pulled up in her car to Angela's house. She had not arrived for work that day, and wondered what happened to Angela.<p>

Brennan looked around the exterior of the house, and did not see any sign of life inside.  
>She began walking towards the front door, then stepping on a rake, the handle swung up and clammed into her nose. It broke, and her brains slid out from the new hole in her head.<p>

She fell to the ground twisting her ankle, snapping it. Brennan then lay there for a few moments, before pulling herself back up, and continuing towards the bright blue front door.

She banged on it as hard as she could till she heard, and felt, her hand break in numerous places.

Slowly bringing her broken hand to her face, she looked at the left side of the door and saw a doorbell. A tear ran down Brennan's cheek.

With no answer, Brennan placed a prepared explosive charge on the door. She walked back and waited. Nothing.

She wondered why it did not go off. So she walked up to the explosive charge and banged on it with her good hand. It blew up, throwing her backwards, and taking her arm off. Tears ran down her face as she soared through the air. She landed on a large boulder in the lawn, and broke her spine. Brennan slowly rolled of the boulder.

Brennan lay sprawled out on the grassy front yard. Dead.

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><p>Booth parked his car next to Brennan's<p>

He looked around the smoking yard, and saw the blown front door.

He began walking towards it, when suddenly his foot caught on something, and in fear he pulled he gun and quickly shot whatever it was.

He heard a final-sounding groan. He looked down, and saw Brennan lift her hand a bit, then drop it. She was dead.

Booth kicked his leg till her hand tore off. Her nails had dug into his skin and tore off a chunk of his ankle.

Booth was no doctor, but he had a pretty smart idea. He grabbed some dirt and rubbed it in the wound.

"Ah! That'll heal it right up" He yelped happily.

Booth examined Brennan's corpse. She had apparently been blown over here by whatever blew up the door.

She wouldn't of been to badly hurt if it wasn't for the large boulder she had apparently landed on during the explosion. It also seemed that knife-like slivers of wood from the door stuck her all over.

He placed the barrel of the gun to her head, and pulled the trigger.

"She is definitely dead now" Booth thought.

He got up, and walked towards the house. He carefully passed through the hole in the wall that used to be the front door.

"Hello?" He called out.

There was a slight groaning noise. He looked around for the source, but couldn't see anything strange. Suddenly his phone rang.

He flipped it open, and listened for a moment then said.

"Erm... Hello?"

A quiet mouse-like voice could be heard whispering.

"Is this Booth?" It whispered.

"Yes..." He said in a confused voice.

"I have location..." It whispered very quietly.

He was about to respond when it suddenly continued.

"I have location..." A Long pause. "Jews." It said quietly, yet quite plainly.

"Whaat? I don-..." He was cut off from the sudden noise.

"Huhehehehahahah!" The voice suddenly cackled.

Then there was silence.

Booth looked at the phone questioningly. He then stuffed it in his mouth, and swallowed it whole. Suddenly the phone exploded in his stomach, and he squatted down in pain, and released his bowels.

"Yowzers!" Booth yelped. Tears running down his face.

He then pulled out his gun, and holding it in front of himself began to cautiously walk toward the kitchen door.

As Booth approached the door, he heard some clinking of pans, and silverware.

He suddenly flew into the kitchen and yelled "Ya-taa!" and shot the first living thing he saw. Bang! Bang! Bang! Went his gun.

Booth stood there panting. He then slowly opened his eyes, and looked around. He saw around the clean, bright kitchen blood spatter.

Then looking down he saw a mangled corpse crumpled on the floor in front of him.

"Hullo?" Booth asked questionably. The corpse slightly twitched.

Booth crept up to the side of it, and kicked it as hard as he could in the ribs.

"Oof!" Groaned the corpse. There were loud cracks as he kicked again in the same spot.  
>He turned over the corpse, and looked at its face. He saw the grinning face of a dead Hodgins.<p>

Hodgins suddenly sprang back to life and with large crazy eyes he laughed loudly.

"Ooh! HOO! HEE!"

Hodgins then grab at Booths crotch. Booth jumped backwards, but it was too late. He had just been molested.

Booth pointed his gun at Hodgins, but Hodgkin had already for the last time died. Booth noted the smile on Hodgins face. He had died happy.

Something near Hodgins' head made a clicking noise. Booth stomped over Hodgins corpse to get over to it. He stopped on Hodgin's head, and examined the object.

It was a video camera. Like that a person would use to make a TV show. Booth was about to pick it up when he heard some clinking behind the counter.

There was a Island counter in the middle of the kitchen. He stood up, but couldn't see completely behind it.

He was about to circle around when he saw something fluffy, and white on the other side.

Slowly but surely. Some THING was rising from the other side of the counter.

First he made out crazy white fluffy hair. Then he saw it. A face.

First he saw the eyes, they were over mascaraed, with a ugly blue colour. Then the buck-toothed mouth came into view.

Till the thing stood there staring at him with a slight smile, and its head tilted to the right.

"Hey y'all" It said to him in a Tennessee accent.

He quickly pointed his gun at it, and fired.

"Y'all ain't gonna catch Paula!" Paula Dean screeched.

She then jumped up in the air and smacked her head hard against the ceiling. And fell back down behind the counter.

Booth quickly, ran around it and shot the corpse laying on the ground behind it.

"Why...?" The corpse grunted. It then fell still.

Booth then confusedly looked at it. It had different clothing then Paula. The shirt was long sleeved, and dark purple. And the pants were black. It was also skinnier.

He approached it, and kicked it over. He heard a few bones break. The corpse turned over and he saw who it was.

It was Brennan. She had apparently came back to life, and crawled in here to get to the phone. She was now dead.

He watched her face as a tear ran down her cheek.

Booth frowned. Suddenly he heard some footsteps on the porch outside the door.

A man ran in the room yelling in joy.

"Hey! I heard some noise, you guys having a par-.." Booth shot the man as he ran into the room.

The man spun around in the air for about 2 minutes, then thudded on the ground. Dead. A single tear ran down his cheek.

It was Angela's neighbor.

"Oops" Booth shrugged.

Booth then began walking towards to the door out of the kitchen when he noticed a cake sitting upon the counter.

He grabbed it and swallowed it whole. He suddenly threw his hands to his throat. As irons were clamped around it. He was choking.

He looked around the room for help. He saw the phone. Booth quickly stumbled around the room towards it.

He picked it up, and began dialing 9-1-1. He listened but no ringing. He hung it up, and brought it up again. there was no dial-tone. His spleen suddenly ruptured.

Suddenly he heard something on the phone.

"Jews" A voice whispered on the other line. Then the phone blew up in his hand. Taking it off.

Booth fell backwards, there was a knife rack behind him. He flew back into it. A dozen or so knifes went into his back.

From the sudden burst of pain, he suddenly threw up the stuff that was lodged in his throat along with every meal he had eaten in his life.

"Oh loooooordy!" Booth gasped.

He looked at the mess on the ground. Something glittered in the coil of intestines.  
>Booth reached down and grabbed it. It was a diamond ring.<p>

Apparently while Paula was cooking this cake, one of her massive diamond rings she wears fell off, and got baked into the cake.

Booth sighed. He licked all the bile, and blood off the ring, and jammed it on his finger. Breaking his knuckle.

He lifted his gun in front of himself again, and began walking towards the door to the staircase.

As he approached the staircase, he took the first step up, then suddenly he heard a strange high-pitched noise.

"Oaaaar!" Something moaned.

Booth quickly turned around. Standing behind him was a pear-shaped creature.

"This way!" The Pear whined.

It then suddenly bolted off, pushing past Booth, and up the staircase.

Booth fell backwards. Falling down the step he initially climbed, he hit the ground hard, breaking his hip.

"Help! I have fallen, and i cannot get up!" He yelped to nobody in particularly in distress.

He then remembered he had recently bought a Life-Alert pendant. He pushed it.

There was some slight static from the pendant. Then he heard a voice.

"Hi I'm Yang!" The voice yelled.

"Help! I have fallen and i cannot get up!" He wheezed, while squirming and reaching his hand less arm out.

"Somebody will be over shortly to loot the house while you are incapacitated. Thank you!" It said happily.

"Enjoy" Booth said to the pendant as the static stopped, and the communication ended.

Booth groaned in pain, and tried to get up but could not. He looked around for anything to support him, but again, nothing.

A loud creaking of boards above him caught his attention. Booth looked up.

It was the Pear. It was standing on the railing of the staircase, looking at him with watering eye's.

"Bonanza!" The Pear peeled.

Suddenly the railing collapsed under the Pears weight, and he plummeted down towards Booth.

"Holy...!" Booth gasped, he then tried to roll out of the way, but his foot was caught in between the staircase railing, it twisted around, breaking.

The Pear landed full force on his broken hip.

BOOM!

Booth lay there, he was covered in slimy pear bits. It had apparently eaten some sort of explosive before falling off the staircase. Booth was about to yell again, and grope his hip in pain, when he realized he no longer felt pain.

He looked down at his hip, and instead of a shattered bone sticking out, it was a brand spankin' new hip. The force of the explosion had thrown his bone back into place.

To make sure of a full recovery, Booth dug his nails into the skin at his hip, and tore of a chunk. He looked at the healed bone through teary eyes, and nodded to himself that it was now healed.

Booth pulled himself up, and wiped some of the guts off, and began to climb the staircase again.

He cautiously stepped onto the next level of the house. There was a faint scratching noise at the end of the hall.

"Yoohoo?" Something called out from downstairs.

Booth was going to turn around and see what called, then a loud flapping sound interrupted him.

A large owl flew up from down the stairs, and landed in front of Booth.

"What?" Booth sputtered.

"SQWUACK!" the owl squealed at him. Opening its mouth, Booth saw a active grenade jammed in its throat.

He jumped back, and the owl exploded like a pinata raining loafs of warm wholesome bread. Booth jumped back as dozens of dirty Mexican ragamuffins flooded in and began rabidly eating the bread.

In a matter of seconds the moist wholesome bread was devoured, and the black-eyed peasants turned to Booth, their eyes watering.

"Arghh!" Booth yelped.

He tried to grab his weapon, but he instead grabbed the apple he had brought for later. He threw it at the paupers, and they pounced on it.

Suddenly they looked up like frightened gazelles, and began scattering as an angry washerwoman with a dirty bandana wrapped around her hair came busting in with a rolling pin. She clubbed one of them on the head, and dragged it away to be tenderized and prepared.

Booth sat there in the hall. His face felt mutilated, and it hurt. With no mirror around, Booth dug his finger into his right eyeball, and tore it out. He turned it around so he could see his now mutilated face.

Upon viewing his distorted face, he let out a dainty scream. He was distracted by a hissing noise, and he saw a snake at his feet.

"You willll, reeegreeet thissssss..." It hissed, then it was gone.

...

To be continued.


End file.
